Before the Bachelor Party
by Allison Jakes
Summary: **CHAPTER THREE UP**On the night of Vaughn’s Bachelor Party, Weiss recounts all of Vaughn’s past girlfriends and what it was like living with Vaughn in his single days.
1. Pre party preparations

**Author: **Ambrose Chavez******   
Email: agent47achavez@hotmail.com   
Category: humor  
Spoilers: n/a   
Rating: PG to NC-17 (it depends?  I'm not really sure yet)   
Disclaimer: Alias and all related characters are not mine. They're JJ's, but they're on my Christmas list!   
Notes: totally made up story, no real "plot", just flashbacks and "HOME VAUGHN" galore... for Jude and KJ  
'Ship: Vaughn/his past ex-girlfriends   
POV: Eric Weiss   
Summary: On the night of Vaughn's Bachelor Party, Weiss recounts all of Vaughn's past girlfriends and what it was like living with Vaughn in his single days.**

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**Chapter One: Pre-party preparation…**

There comes a point in a man's life when he has to look back and remember all the stupid things he did.

For Vaughn, that time came on the heels of his brush with death and the admittance of his 'inappropriate feelings' for Bristow that lead to his current predicament (even if I'm the only one that calls it that): engagement.  She's a good agent, I'll admit.  But please, Vaughn's had far more… interesting affairs.  Or maybe, that's just me seeing this Bristow thing for what it is: the whole love thing.  The real deal.  Scary as shit, isn't it?

But I'm here, as his best friend and best man, to give you an eyewitness account of some of the dumbest things we've ever done… and some of the greatest… and of course, some of the craziest things we've done.

I lived with Mike for years… up until he decided to kick me out, get his own place in West Los Angeles and "settle down".  I, on the other hand, still shudder at the very words that suggest a commitment.  But I'm not here to talk about me – well, a little bit – but tonight is Mike's bachelor party, and you better be damn sure I'm going to spill all the beans… one precious _frijol at a time._

I first met Mike when I was in officer training at Langley in 1997.  He had been one of the "superiors" since he had been there for three years already, but we became friends in the weight room.  Actually, I teased him about benching only 180 when I could lift a grand total of 220.  But then he got back at me when he pointed out I eat about twice as much as he does and my gut's bigger than his.  I frowned and told him I'd get rid of it, and I'm damn proud of my belly – who the hell wants to be that skinny?  I need something for the ladies to hold onto, right?

Anyway, he ended up training so hard that ultimately we were equals benching 240, and we became almost equal in studies, analysis, language proficiency, and strategic ops planning.  (Truth?  I saw Mike as a kind of role model, so I tried to be just as good as he was).  Imagine my surprise when three years after Langley, I get transferred to the Los Angeles division and I run into Vaughn in the break room.  We were both coffee people – it's just not possible to make "The object of this mission is…" coherent if you're going on three hours of sleep and a pixie stick high.

"Well if it isn't Pizza and beer Weiss." He called me, lifting his coffee in the air in mock toast.

"Long time no see Stick Figure Mike."

"Very funny."

"No, come on, you know I'm kidding."

"Yeah." He smiled, patted me on the back then gave me the once-over.  "So, what?  You can lift maybe… 200 now?"

"What?" I jerked back, mildly insulted.  "More like 3 bills, man."

"With that belly?" he joked.

I laughed with him and shook my head.  Old friends and good times… ahh, that was the life…

Within the year, I had moved in with Mike in that sardine can he nicknamed his apartment.  Not that I'm complaining or anything – I mean, he did give me a place to live.

But let me tell you!  He's got this habits that drive me up the wall.  For example, he got on my case every single day for leaving my dishes in the sink.  Man, they'd be there when we got home later that night!  Why not wait and do them all at the end of the week?!

Anyway, then he just _had to watch the Kings every single time they had a game.  One year, they made it into the Stanley Cup Western Hemisphere Finals and – I kid you not – he blew about 400 bucks for two seats and then took his girlfriend Lisa.  Not his best friend Eric… __his girlfriend Lisa._

I grumbled for about a week.  Yeah, I'm not into hockey nearly as much as he is, but I would have _loved to see the Stanley Cup!  Lisa didn't give a rat's ass – and I found out later that she told him so._

Yep.  That was a messy break up.

Let me tell you about it.

Lisa Spinelli was a leggy Italian with a model's height (5'7").  She had shoulder length brown hair that she straightened with a flat iron daily.  (I know, because every time she slept over, her damn hair would be in our bathroom sink!)  She was a graduate student at the time, going for her Ph.D. at UCLA (sound familiar?).  Eventually, though Mike treated her well enough, she complained of being neglected.  Sometimes, our jobs just got the better of us and we were tired.  He didn't want to go out and party when he was so exhausted, but she didn't understand that.  Being high-maintenance, she flung one high heel at him while climbing into a cab and screaming obscenities at him.

Poor Mike just sighed and looked at me with those green eyes of his (that seem to draw the girls in better than my brown ones), shrugged and asked, "The Jungle Bar?"  To which I readily agreed.

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't because Vaughn didn't care… it was just that women weren't high on his list of priorities back then.  They came, they went, so be it.  But honestly, I just think that the right one hadn't come along yet.  (And she wouldn't come along until almost two years later.)

That night at the Jungle Bar… well, let me take you back a bit.

We arrived at a decent hour (eleven is descent, even if I did tell our dates that we'd be there at ten thirty), and promptly headed for the bar.  I remember ordering Scotch and Vaughn had to have a Jack Daniels (his heavy duty drink of choice).  Cindy McAllister and Eva Richards were two of my university colleagues, but Mike didn't know that.  Cindy took a real liking to Vaughn if I remember clearly enough…

"So, Michael… you're French," she rolled her tongue seductively and leaned over, offering him a view of her high, perky breasts.  (High and perky… were they fake?  I never did figure that out).

"Hmm," he mumbled, swallowing his drink.

"Say something in French," she giggled.  God, she was drunk, I rolled my eyes and turned my attention to Eva, who lavished me with attention as well.  Too bad she was too drunk to remember my name.  She kept calling me Rick, which I couldn't stand.

But they ended up coming home with us because they were too drunk to drive home.  Eva never made it into my room because she ended up crashing on our couch.  Cindy on the other hand, got into a room…

"Eric," Vaughn's muffled voice came from behind the closed bathroom door.

"What?" I called back, my mouth full of toothpaste.

"She, ah…" he paused, hesitant.

"What?" I asked again before I spat.

"Open the door!" he whispered fiercely.

When I unlocked it, he quickly spun into the bathroom and shut the door, leaning against it and looking panicked.

"Smooth move, double oh seven."  I rinsed my mouth out and began wiping it with the towel.  "Did you forget, you're not in special fields?"

"Shut up," he hushed me.  "You set me up with a vampire."

"What do you mean?"

"She's… she's…" he looked in the mirror and checked the growing purple, splotchy mark high on his neck.  "My god, I have to wear a scarf tomorrow."

I just started laughing.  A thirty two year old man with a hickey.  Good Lord, would wonders never cease.

Needless to say, Cindy didn't come around again, but in the meantime, I spent the rest of the year living with him.  He hated wearing the tie at the office so you can imagine what torture it was for him to wear the scarf (and indoors too!  Better believe people were trying to hold their laughter when he walked past, but I tried to cover for him).  

I didn't really see Eva after that either, but that's okay, there were other women to come that would try to capture Vaughn's attention.  Some of them aren't really that important, like Nikki (super excess cheer girl, yeah!), Rhianne (the NASA meteorologist who incessantly went on and on about space rocks), and Shelly (the hockey expert who could outskate Mike – he didn't appreciate that too well).  They were girls that only dated Vaughn for maybe a month or two… but then there were the ones you just can't forget… like Jenna Langston (Vaughn's only experience with a sistah from da 'hood), Bianca Juarez (the Latin sensation with hips like… well, I'll tell you later), and Kimiko Nakamura (the Japanese masseuse… now her, I liked!).  I'll brief you more about each of his ex-girlfriends and what made them so memorable.

For example, there was this one time when we got real drunk on his birthday…

I'm not allowed to tell Sydney about it, so I think I better go ask Mike if it's okay to tell you guys.  By the way, this is all classified info.  In our jobs, secrets make or break us – it's life and death.  And trust me, Syd would gladly whoop his ass for that one day when all the guys came over for New Years'… uh, ahem.  Yeah.  I'm going to ask Mike before we kick off the entire bachelor party…


	2. The Limo Ride

Before the Bachelor Party – Part 2: The Limo Ride… 

**Rating: PG, PG-13**

**A/N: the dirty version is available via email to agent47achavez@hotmail.com.  This is the clean version.**

**_________________________________________________**

Mike and I are the last to hop into the limo.  He's spent the last hour and a half getting ready.  I can tell because he's got his "good cologne" on and he gets upset when I joke about his hair being out of place.

Inside the limo, which seats twelve, are four other guys.  You sit by the window that separates us from the chauffer, and on your right is our resident child, (He hates it when I call him that, by the way), Nicolas Vaughn, Mike's younger, half-brother.  To your left is Dean Lipton, one of our analysts, who we've worked with for years, and no, no relation to those tea people.  Next to him is Brothah Jackson, the one responsible for introducing Vaughn to Jenna Langston, the "sistah from da 'hood".  His real name is Marcus Jackson, but we call him "Brothah Jay" or "Brothah Jackson" because he turned preacher on us.  Jackson used to play ball with Mike back in the day.  I played once, but you know… basketball isn't really my sport.  Maybe I just don't like running.

Anyway, we brought out the wine and begin the festivities.  When the wine has flowed from our glasses to our bellies, it's time to bring on the embarrassing stories.

"Brothah Jay," I leaned over, and tapped him on the leg.  "Do you remember when you brought Jenna around?"

"Jenna…" Nicolas was jogging his memory.  The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't come up with a face.

"Oh, you wouldn't know," I said.  "You're too young.  Besides, I doubt Mike ever brought her home to meet your mom."

Mike blushed and shook his head no.  "There's no way my mom would have approved."

"You think?" I joke.  "In fact…" slyly, I reach into my back pocket and withdraw my wallet.  Inside, there's a picture of Mike and Jenna.  "I just happen to have a picture."

"Oh, no!" Mike covered his face with one hand and groaned.  He already knew what I'm talking about.

"Remember that time a few years back when Mike was growing out his hair?"

Wide-eyed with curiosity and intrigue, Nicolas nodded and held out his hand for the photograph.  Instead, I lifted it for all to see.

"He let her braid it."

The picture was definitely Mike, but at first glance, you wouldn't think so.  His hair was pulled back in a pattern, braided in cornrows.  He was decked out in black athletic pants with a Sean John shirt half tucked-in.  Jenna, who stood about 5'7", was wearing a tight, revealing leopard print dress.

After the initial shock passed, the boys started laughing and Mike was half-yelling trying to be heard above everyone else.

"She convinced me to let her do it!"

"Coerced." I corrected, patting him on the back congenially.  "It's okay to be weak when it comes to women."

"Weak?!" he blanched.  "Weiss, if I remember correctly, I wasn't the one who let that one girl from Philly dupe me into letting her stay _rent-free_ in _my apartment_ for two months."

I shrugged.  "How was I to know that she was an underage runaway?"

Before I could continue with my defense, Dean and Mike simultaneously said, "You run a background check."

In all seriousness, I never thought about it.

"I'm used goods," I joked.  "What can I say?  Do you take damaged products?"

It was only meant to illicit laughs, but I clearly remember when Yvette (the aforementioned 'girl who duped me') took off, leaving me without a clue of where she went.  I remember that hollow feeling she left behind and the desperate search to find her… only to uncover the fact that she was a seventeen-year-old runaway.

Mike's eyes only shone with laughter.  The glib expression on his face really had to be wiped off…

"Hey, at least I didn't walk around thinking I was a brothah for eight months."  I threw a gang sign and posed for a mug shot.  "I didn't wear hip hop clothes and pretend I could rap."

"You rapped?!" Nicolas howled.

Brothah Jay nodded, smiling.  "Back in the day, when Jenna was around, Mike could spit as good as… Eminem."

"More like Vanilla Ice," I nudged Mike.  "Give your brother a sample."

Dean, a half-black and half-mexican mix, leaned forward in interest.  "I'll battle you, Mike."

"Battle?" Mike laughed.  "I haven't rapped for years.  And I only did it to joke around."

"Don't lie, you rapped to impress Jenna."

"I did not." He turned to me indignantly.  "I didn't have to impress Jenna.  She came after me, remember?"

"Brothah Jay introduced you _once_ at Club Ecstasy, and you strolled by her like four times."

"She came after me, okay?"

"Holla," Brothah Jay interjected.  "She holla'ed your way, dawg.  She didn't 'come after you'."

Mike smiled.  "Look, I just walked by maybe _twice_, and she pinched my backside and said,--"

I had to join in with my falsetto.  "—Hey boy, why don't you back dat ass up?"

"—And I did." He finished.

"And you rapped," I reminded him.

"C'mon, Mike.  Spit a little sum'tin sum'tin for us," Nicolas shrugged.  We just started laughing.  At twenty-two, little Nick liked to impress us with his knowledge of the world be it academically or hip hop street talk.

"Yeah, do that one… what was it?"  I paused, thinking.  "Yo' mama so fat… no, that's not it."

"Alright," Mike chuckled and rubbed his nose with his index finger twice.  That's his trademark move when he tries to rap.  "Give me a beat, Brothah."

Brothah Jay and Dean began beat-boxing and Mike banged his head with it for a moment, searching for something to say.

"Dawg, I can't do this," he looked at me.

"You called me 'dawg', Mike.  You're already moving to that mindset.  Just think a little harder.  Be the beat, feel it in your soul," What kind of crap was I talking about?  I'm not really sure, but I think I might have heard it on some self-help yoga channel or something.

He turned away from me, sighed and closed his eyes.  Thirty seconds later, his hand was waving in the air, two fingers curled in, two straight out slicing the air in swift movements.  "Yo', yo'… it's bout time I busted dis flow.  See, it's been a long year, and I got all this fear, I'm on the edge, ball and chain comin' full fledged, ain't gonna be single no mo', ain't never tried this befo'.  Hand in hand, me and girl Syd can, do anythin' we please, cuz homie don't you see?  She's the only woman meant for me, we's meant to be, if it weren't for syd-ney, I don't think I'd be me.  Maybe be dead in some pool of crap, all cuz of some Russian trap, goddamn, it's been a long time since I've done that."

"Ohh," was the only I heard in the limo for a good three minutes.  Okay, so lied, Mike can rap… a little.

Jenna was the only girl I remember who was able to manipulate Mike into changing the most.  Shortly after their break up (a very friendly one, by the way), Mike reverted to the old suit and tie we're all so used to seeing.

"She was fun to hang out with," I smiled, my mind already off of Mike's rap skills.

"Yeah, she was," Mike smiled.  "Brothah Jay, how's the wife doing?"

"Strong as a horse, as usual.  Still throws down," he laughed.  "but thank God she stopped messing with me.  Now she messes with our boy, Cole."

"Cole…" I smiled.  That little runt was every bit as wild as his mother.  A few years after Mike and Jenna broke it off, Jackson became Brothah Jay and ended up dating and marrying her.  It all worked out for the best, as we see.

"Don't worry, Weiss," Brothah Jay patted my shoulder.  "You'll have one of your own one day."

"What?!"

Mike found immense humor in this.  "Eric?  With a wife and child?!"

I scowled.  "I wouldn't be talking.  You're the one walking down the aisle tomorrow, Mike.  Don't get cold feet, now…"

"About what?" his eyes shone brightly.  I narrowed my gaze.

"Ball and chain.  Lifelong commitment.  Wife and child."

"Wife, yes.  Child… on the way."

"What?!" I hooted.  "You didn't tell me, you bastard!"

"You didn't tell me what you've planned for this evening."

"I'm not going to.  It's all very top secret, Mike.  Besides, I think you'll understand as we go."

Suspiciously, he asked, "There's no Jacuzzi involved in this, is there?"

I made a _tsk tsk_ sound and said, "Shame on you, Michael.  You ought to know better than to ask."

"What about the Jacuzzi?" Dean asked, pushing up his glasses.

"Bianca Juarez." I sucked in my breath and shook my head.  "She _loved _Jacuzzis…"

The limo slowed to a stop and the chauffer announced, "We've arrived at our first stop." Over the intercom.

"Food," I say longingly, already forgetting the story I was about to delve into.  "I've been starving myself all day just for this."

"Where are we?" Mike asked just as I open the door.

"Hooters!" Nicolas calls out cheerfully.

Mike smiles and slowly shakes his head.  There are memories to go with this one too, but for now…

"Brothah Jay, we'll try to keep the lust factor to a minimum." I smiled, leading the way.  "You know, I think I'm in love." 

We entered the building and a cheerful blonde named Britney greeted us.  "Hi, welcome to Hooters, party of six?"

"Reservation for Vaughn."

"So soon, Weiss?" Mike smiled at me.  "Thought your last love was enough for you."

"The veal?" I turned to him.  "Oh, no.  She was last weekend.  This weekend, it's all about my darling T-bone."

"What's the Jacuzzi thing?" Nicolas brings it up again once we're seated.

"Slow down, Turbo," I lift the menu.  "The lady calls… and then we'll get back to the ex-girlfriends and the never-fail-to-embarrass legends they left behind."

Ahh, see?  Food.  

Food is so much less complicated than women… and they satisfy every time.  If someone plans on getting me hitched, they better make sure she loves to cook.


	3. The Jacuzzi

**A/N: translations at end.Sorry for the delay.**

*****Before the Bachelor Party 3: The Jacuzzi*****

Dinner was promptly followed by a trip to the hottest Hollywood hotspot on Sunset – literally.The name of the club was Boiler Room, and they do indeed have what was called a "boiler room".Not quite like the CIA boiler room, but hey, we all have our own rendition of everything.

This boiler room was an upper-level, invitation-only section of the club that featured saunas and Jacuzzis built into the floor that you can step in.Using my influence (and not to mention connections), I was able to reserve an entire Jacuzzi for our party.

The girls were scantily clad (to be expected), and enjoyed flirting at length with little charmer Nick (to be desired by the ladies, but it would have been better if they made a move for me, and not the kid).I won't complain… much.

"So what was this Jacuzzi thing?" Nick managed as he settled in the warm, soothing water and stretched an arm around each girl who had squeezed in next to him.

"Bianca Juarez," I took another sip of my scotch."how long ago was she Mike?"

His brow furrowed as he thought."I was about 26, maybe?"

"Well, whatever.She came after Jenna," I looked pointedly at Brothah Jay and then back at Nick."And she had curves that you just couldn't speed by.She was beautiful.Beautiful!"

Mike elbowed me in the ribs."Hey, stop harping about my ex-girlfriends.I'm happy with the girl I got, I don't need to remember the past."

"Maybe you don't, but we do." I retorted."Anyway, she was pretty, but more annoying than Jim Carrey when he did that 'most annoying sound in the world'.Remember that movie?"

Nick nodded, but his attention was waning and falling into the neck of the girl on his right.

"Hey, kid." I leaned forward."You think you might wanna show some respect here?Your brother's getting married in about two seconds.You might not wanna flaunt the girls he can't have in his face."

We had a laugh and the girls finally got the hint.I watched them and shook my head.Damn, what wouldn't I give…

But anyway.

"Why was she annoying?"Nick asked.

"Because she refused to go by her name, she was bossy, she insisted that _I_ do everything for her whenever I was around, and if it wasn't me it was Mike.She just… she was a priss, a princess, and a bombshell all rolled into one."

"And she hated you." Mike smiled.

"And she hated me." I confirmed with a nod."The favor was returned, if you recall."

Dean, ever the analyst, had to ask."What do you mean she refused to go by her name?"

Mike spoke up."Well, even though she was named Bianca, she wanted to be called Lacy, Diamond, or QuiXotic."

"What the hell?" Nick frowned.

"She was a dancer, kid." I passed my empty glass to a passing girl with a tray and went in further."They were her stage names."

"Names…" Dean said thoughtfully."Off topic, but speaking of names.Why do you and Mike have the same last name if Mike's dad passed on when he was eight?You guys are twelve years apart."

Nick turned to him."You know, I get asked that a lot.Basically, my father decided he didn't want to stick around, so he left.It hurt mom a lot, so she gave me the surname of Vaughn instead of my real father's since he's a jackass."

Dean lifted one shoulder passively."Sounds fair."

"Besides, I see Mike as my full brother, not my half-brother.And honestly, I prefer having his dad to my own."

I nodded, remembering the times when Nick used to come over the apartment – back then, we hid all the condoms and other such items… oh, that reminds me.

"She was a nitpick!" I proclaimed aloud."Whenever she came over, she would kick my stuff around and tell me, 'Eh, you pick it up, eh?_Es como un_ pigsty _en este casa._And you smell _como_ _un pescado_'."

"Like a fish?!"Brothah Jay laughed."I remember her saying a great deal of other things too."

"What surprised me," Dean interjected, "Is that Vaughn dated a stripper!"

Mike went red again. I don't think he'll ever live down the horrid girlfriends he's had.

"Whenever she got mad, she spoke Spanish," he said."It was like dating a hot female version of Ricky Ricardo."

"But she was definitely ready and willing, if you know what I mean," I hooted.I may not have liked her much, but I can say she was hotter than sin on a grill with a straight face.

Mike's blush deepened.

"For a guy who's had such a colorful past, you seem to be easily embarrassed by it." Dean smiled, relaxing back into the foaming water.

"What can I say?I found my guardian angel and I'm happy to settle down now.The past really doesn't account for anything."

"There was this time," I opened my mouth, then shut it."You know, maybe I shouldn't tell it."

"Why not?" Mike challenged."You've said worse."

I placed a hand on his shoulder."You asked for it.Back at the apartment, there was a Jacuzzi, a sauna and a swimming pool.One night, I was exhausted, and mind you, I was thinner back then.More in shape.Anyway, I was kicking back, relaxing, when suddenly, I feel someone's hands on my shoulders.I froze because I was thinking, 'well this is nice…' and I'm not one to protest anything.Honestly, I thought it was Shelly in room below us because she always had a thing for me."

Mike rolled his eyes."This isn't about you, Weiss."

"Right," I went on."So she starts running her hands down my chest, and I was like, 'okay, this is a little weird, maybe I should say something'.But then she starts kissing my neck, and that's when I know something's up.Shelly may have had a crush on me, but she was not that daring.So I turn around… and guess what…"

"It was Bianca!" Nick shouted."Oh my god.How could she have possibly thought you were Mike?"

"Hey, I resent that."

"She was more than a little drunk, so she proceeded to try to seduce me.I was pretty appalled and I ended up dropping her on her ass on the side of the Jacuzzi and running to get Mike.He didn't think it was funny at the time, and there were sparks flying all over the pool area."

"She really did have a temper," Mike commented."Of all the things I remember, the one thing that sticks out in my mind about her was amazing sex in millions of positions and her temper – which sometimes led to sex."

"And I'll bet it did that night," Brothah Jay, wise in his years of dealing with women, spoke.

"You bet!" Mike smiled broadly."She told me, '_Ai, dios mio, _Michael_._It was a _mistake_, eh?Your friend, Eric – _él es un joto, _eh?_Es_ okay.We make love now, eh?'"

He shook his head."She was insane."

"Outside.In the Jacuzzi." I added."Old man Delray walked in and his eyes nearly fell out of his head."

"How did you—" Mike lifted a hand."Forget it, I don't want to know.  
  


"Delray took pictures, came up to the apartment and said, 'Damn that Vaughn.Always does get himself a nice piece of ass'.Then he showed me."

"No!" Mike was shocked.

"Yes." I smiled a mischievous smile and lifted a hand to get the attention of the nearest waitress.I needed another drink.

A girl with dark curls, long legs, and a barely there outfit sauntered over and let her ample breasts brush my arm.Not good for a man already missing out on the action.

"Can I get another glass of scotch?" I asked.

"Sure thing, _joto_." Then she lifted her face to the light and I could have died.Bianca, it seems, was still in the business, but slightly more decent.The strip club was downstairs, and here she was, working the top floor of Boiler Room.

"Ohmigod." I breathed.Mike turned around.

"Bianca."

"_Hola, mi amor.Veo que toda via estas junto con_ _este_ jackass, eh?"

"Bianca, it's been years.What do you say we leave it behind us, huh?" I lifted a hand in a gesture of friendship.

She blatantly stared at me and went off in her native tongue.She poked me hard in the breastbone twice and spun on her heel to walk away.She caught sight of Nick and walked up to him, pinched his jaw with one hand, leaned forward and kiss him rough on the lips.When she let him go, he was jarred and disoriented.

We watched her go with a mixture of relief and admiration.Her beautifully toned ass swaggered with each step, and I heard four echoes of "DAAAAYYYYYMMMMNNNN" in my ear.

Yup, Bianca still had it.

Nick scrambled to follow after her, but Mike and Dean grabbed him by the arms."No, child.I don't think you're going after her.You'll never be able to handle that."

He sat back down with a scoff and with stars in his eyes… oh man would he have his own adventures or what?

I sighed.Again, I'll stick with my theory: food is much, much better (and easier) than women.

______________

translations:

*dios mio=Oh my god

*joto=fag

*Veo que toda via estas junto con este jackass=I see you still hang with this jackass


End file.
